“Because every man can feel when things are out of balance. We are built to be sickened by injustice.”
“And here I thought people were mailing me rape threats because they’re psychopaths who get turned on by spreading fear.”
“Psychopaths persist in the species because women find them attractive, thus breeding more psychopaths.”
Zoey felt Will shifting in his seat, sensing the annoyance building in him. He had little use for these debates that Zoey was somehow constantly getting sucked into.
“Whereas men,” she said, “choose their sex partners based purely on moral virtue. Getting back to the original topic, what, in your estimation, would make all of this go away?”
“You’ve seen the video of when the North Korean government fell? The crowds tearing down that statue? That’s when the mob will be satisfied.”
“Only I’m the statue. So, what, I should retire? Take some money and go back to Colorado?”
“No, I don’t think that would do it. I think they need to topple you.”
“Speaking of Korea,” said Will, before Zoey could open her mouth, “you built all of this off of contracts you had over there. When you were with Odin’s Hammer. All that off-books work behind the border.”
“You were there.”
“I was. I saw the aftermath of your people’s work in Kaesong. I understand they were paid very well. Deservedly so. It can’t be easy to shoot a five-year-old child, they make for such small targets. Well, I guess it’s easier when they’re starving. And barricaded inside a school.”
“And now their surviving comrades, instead of starving in the streets, can dine at one of the four Chick-fil-A locations that just opened in their city. What’s your point?”
“My point is, if I were to, say, smash you through that window and feed you to the propellers—”
Zoey grabbed Will’s arm. “Stop. Go. Walk away. Go outside and have a smoke.” She glanced back at Wu. “You, too. I want to talk to Mr. Chobb alone.”
Will stared daggers at her, but didn’t move.
She repeated. “Go. There’s a little bar through that door, right? Go have a drink.” To Wu, “And yes, go with him. Don’t make me say it again.”
They both left, reluctantly. Chobb almost imperceptibly nodded to Dirk Vikerness, who stepped away, taking up a position in the corner instead of leaving the room, as Zoey would’ve preferred. Chobb was spooning more beans onto a cracker. Zoey grabbed a cracker and started doing the same.
“What is this? Some kind of bean salad?”
“They’re all eggs. A mix of salmon roe, caviar, escamoles—that’s ant larva. The orange crumbles are sugar-cured egg yolks. These are fried blinis. The sauce is a Moroccan harissa.”
She chewed. The eggs were just frozen enough to kind of gently shatter in the mouth, the sauce was spicy and minty. The varying temperatures hit her tongue in waves. It was deeply unsettling and also she immediately wanted more.
Chobb nodded in the direction Will had gone and said, “You know he agrees with everything I just said, right? Don’t let him tell you any different. He knows he should be at the head of the table. I can’t even imagine what lies Will is telling you to make you think your interests are aligned. And I’ll say this—I think it’s cruel the way he’s stringing you along, letting you be the public face of the operation for whatever demented purpose he’s decided that serves. This summer, when I heard he’d supposedly found you like that and gotten you to a hospital, I said, ‘Ah, there it is. That’s how he’s going to do it once he’s decided he’s done with her. He’s set the stage.’ Soon they’ll find you in the tub with your wrists split open and he’ll say, ‘We all knew she was troubled, the poor girl. Even had to be institutionalized at one point. The burden of leadership was just more than what little Zoey could bear.’”
Instead of taking the bait, Zoey swallowed, leveled her gaze at Titus Chobb, and said, “They’re right. The Blowback, I mean. I had Dexter Tilley killed.”
She watched him very carefully. Anyone can suppress a reaction when the situation calls for it, but it is almost impossible to avoid that initial half-second response. It was in that fraction of a moment that Titus Chobb flashed an expression of mild amusement, the look of a man who had heard a statement he knew was a lie and was relishing the power of knowing the truth. And in that moment, Zoey knew that either Chobb had killed Tilley, or knew who had done it. It wasn’t that strange of a thought; the man’s empire was built on gunmen who, in a sane city, would have washed out of a police academy. If he wanted it done, he could have ordered it with a glance and a nod.
Still, Chobb’s expression recovered faster than most people’s, she had to admit.
“Well, that’s good to know. Am I supposed to be scared?”
The nude server returned and placed in front of each of them a small wooden plank. On each was a piece of meat that was still squirming. It was a flayed eel, its head intact but body sliced open and pinned to the wood, like a dissection in biology class. Zoey suppressed her urge to recoil in disgust but, just like Chobb, knew she did not do it in time.
Chobb said, “This way, you know it’s fresh.”
Zoey tried not to look at it. Still, she could hear it. A slimy exposed wound, writhing in pain.
“I don’t expect you to be scared of me, no. But if the roof blows off this city … it’s not going to look like anything you’ve seen before. How many private security staff do you have on your payroll?”
“Over a thousand,” he said, as he carved off a piece of eel. “And growing.”
“But you don’t accept anyone who has implants, and you don’t use any other Raiden gadgets. No tiny blasters that can melt a whole car.”
“That’s because none of it works. I just heard about a man who’s in the hospital, still on fire a week later.”
“The bootleg implants don’t work. They have buggy software, by design. That’s because there’s only one source for the real thing. And I’m not selling. Yet.”
Chobb stopped chewing. Just for a second, but she caught it.
She continued, “This situation in the city will get fixed, and soon. I can’t make them love me, but I can make them piss their pants at the sound of my name. I would prefer it not to be that way. But if they don’t leave me a choice?” She shrugged.
“I believe you. After all, you killed Dexter Tilley.”
He cut off another chunk of the thrashing eel and took a bite. As he chewed, they locked eyes for about three seconds.
Zoey looked away first. She picked up her knife and sliced the head off her eel, putting it out of its misery, and stood.
“Where’s the server? I want to leave her a tip.”
13
Zoey joined Will in the cramped little bar area and they had a drink in silence. The encounter had gone more or less the way they’d planned it. They were passing a giant golden cat on their left—a Chinese casino designed as a five-hundred-foot-tall maneki-neko, like the “lucky cat” figurines with the left paw that waves back and forth in a beckoning motion. The building did in fact have a motorized arm, slowly tilting back and forth to their left as if at any moment it could reach over and slap them out of the air. Zoey felt a twinge of bitterness at the sight of it; this joint was the only reason she wasn’t able to design her own headquarters like a giant cat, as it’d have been seen as a petty knockoff.